


Scars Upon Our Hearts

by B_Radley



Series: Gandalf's Way [9]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Companionable Snark, Developing Friendships, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Pain, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:30:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8762419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: Two warriors, both from heritages of loss and death, learn to trust each other.





	

"Come on, Zeb. I need you to go with Ahsoka to meet this contact."

"Really not in the mood, Hera."

"What's eating you, big guy? You've been moping around ever since we got you back from that Geonosian moon."

"Nothing, Hera. Just don't feel like spending a rotation or two in hyperspace with our mystical 'Mom.'

The Twi'lek's tattooed eyebrow rises nearly to her flight cap. "What have you got against Ahsoka, Zeb?"

"Nothing. Just think that our baby Jedi should go with her."

"You seemed to do okay when you went with Kanan and Ezra to get those kids. You saw her fight."

"Yeah, I saw her from a great vantage point. Half-conscious on the ground and then running for our lives."

Her eyes narrow. _Speaking of mom looks,_ he thinks. He sighs. "Hera, I just think she has her own agenda. She's always going off by herself on these super-secret meetings. When she comes back, we usually get thrown into the shit."

"Did you forget that she saved all of our asses at least once when she gambled against her own protocols and got the rebels to send the fleet to Mustafar? Or the fact that her saberwork, which even Kanan described as incredible, saved your big ass and our two 'baby Jedi,' as well as several innocent children?"

"Well, no." he sighs. "Look, Hera, I don't question her motives or her commitment to our cause. It's just that she is so secretive - the same beef Sabine had when we just knew her as Fulcrum." The Lasat smirks. "Before she gave in to her crush. Surprised she hasn't offered Ahsoka space in her room."

Hera's eyeroll does her rank as a squadron commander in the Rebellion great credit. "You just don't worry about your crewmates' crushes."

"Plus, she doesn't have that much of a sense of humor."

"I would dispute that, Zeb. Have you actually spent time with her? Outside of missions?"

"Well, no."

"I have. Did you know that she was basically in command of soldiers who were adult-equivalents from the time she was fourteen? That she was in a war?"

Her green eyes pierce him. "Yes, she is reserved. But spend some time with her one-on-one and you might see someone different. Someone who doesn't have the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders. Who for the last fourteen or so years, has been building a network that has laid the groundwork for what we are doing. A young woman who has been through a lot, but has never lost her basic joy and decency."

Zeb sighs. "I know. I know, Hera." He closes his eyes. "Okay. I'll go with her. But I don't really want to spend time getting to know anybody else. I barely tolerate you lot."

Hera smirks. "Don't worry, love. The feeling is mutual." A slap on his shoulder belies the statement.

XXXXX

Zeb ducks as a blaster bolt marks the wall near his head. The movement causes his injured leg to slip.

The Togruta shifts her hold on his shoulders with her left arm, as her right continues to deflect blaster bolts towards their sources.

He can see that she is beginning to flag, with supporting him and her lightsaber work.

Not to mention the knife wounds she has on her side and rear lek.

Or the blaster burn on the arm that is supporting him.

They duck into an alley. Zeb takes a moment to prime several of Sabine's little surprises and throw them at their pursuers.

Well, at least one group of pursuers. He smiles as he hears the explosions and the screams of the bucketheads pursuing them.

There is no sign of the Pyke wannabes that had started this whole mess.

He takes a look at their surroundings and realizes they have come to a dead end. "Great, O wise General. You've led us to a dead end. You have an idea to get us through that wall? Maybe use the Force to turn us into wraiths or something?" He wiggles his fingers derisively as he says this.

He yelps as she pulls her arm from under his, unexpectedly. He sinks to his knees as his wounded leg gives away. "One, don't call me General," she says quietly, but with a voice filled with menace. "Two, if you could maybe concentrate on covering the entrance to this alley, maybe I can get us out of this mess that your mouth got us into."

"My mouth? If you hadn't been so busy flirting with our little Zeltron contact, we might never have gotten into a situation with those Pyke scumbags in the first place."

She looks at him, pinning him with the deadly blue gaze. "You don't worry about who I was flirting with, Orrelios."

"Why?..."

He realizes he is talking to himself.

Zeb looks up. She is standing on the high roof looking down on him. He rolls his eyes.

His eyes stop in mid-roll as he feels himself flying up to the roof next to her. _Karabast! I hate that poodoo,_ he thinks.

He arrives on the roof, just in time to catch her before she falls to the floor, her face ashen. He lowers her the remainder of the way, propping her against the wall behind her. "Easy, Ahsoka. Rest there. Do you have any bacta?"

She sighs. She reaches up and pulls the breastplate of her armor away from her chest. He smirks as he sees the half-dozen bacta pads taped to the inside. She matches his expression with her own. He idly notices that the Smirk that she gives nearly bowls him over with its power.

_Fairly certain that she has been bowling people over with that expression since she was a child._

"Got tired of forgetting to pack enough of these damned things on missions after I would get punctured on the previous mission," she offers by way of explanation.

"Nothing like being prepared, Fulcrum," he says. He opens one of the packets. "Turn around. I need to look at your head."

"I'm okay, Zeb. Take care of your leg."

He rolls his eyes. "Please spare me from self-sacrificing idiot Jedi," he says. "As much as I would like to leave you to your own devices, especially," his eyes narrow, "since you got us into this mess; you have a lek injury. I don't know much about Togruta physiology, but that is a head injury. As much as I question your actual brains, you got more than I do. So shut it and turn around."

Ahsoka sighs. "Not a Jedi, big guy," she says quietly. He can see the sadness as she does. The Smirk returns in all of its glory. "Glad that you recognize my brainpower. At least you didn't say I think with my lightsaber, like certain Jedi Masters and clan-masters would say."

"Yeah. Right. You forget. I have my hand on your head. I can only feel solid bone," the Lasat says.

"I'm not the one that head-butted that Trandoshan. The thing that started this whole thing."

"Oh, no, sister. Your distraction with that Zeltron's hoodoo is what got us into it. Good thing that Lasats aren't affected by such nonsense." He finishes cleaning the cut and secures another patch to her lek.

He gently lifts up her tunic from her side. His eyes soften at the wound and the other scars on her back and ribs.

On both sides. She winces as he cleans the deeper wound. His fingers trace a small scar on her back on that side. A deep wound from many years ago. To distract her, he asks her. "So who was the Zeltron to you, Ahsoka? Yeah, you looked like both of you were about to go at it on the tabletop, but there was something else there. Something deeper."

He watches as her eyes track downward. She smiles softly. He can see so many emotions play over her serene face.

_Loss. Pain. Remembrance._

_Even love._

"She is a reminder of a time, just a few years ago, when I had another family for awhile. One that I didn't have to worry about attachment or a Code, except to one that says we have to communicate with each other."

Ahsoka closes her eyes. "She calls me a sister of her heart."

The smile fades. "For a time, we and a very few others, were the Rebellion. A year or so ago, we had to separate ourselves as the movement grew. I just haven't seen her in awhile."

Ahsoka closes her eyes. "She is reminder of another, as well. A further reminder of another lost family. One that I was a member of for most of my adolescence."

He smiles. "Know a little bit about that, dear," he says softly as he finishes taping the wound. He pulls the tunic down and moves toward the wound on her arm. She stops him.

She picks up a fresh pad and and begins to clean the wound on his thigh. He watches her face as she concentrates on the task.

A very sharp predator's tooth worries her lower lip as she concentrates. She places the pad over the wound. She looks at him and pulls out a roll of gauze. He yelps as she pulls the bandage over the pad tighter.

"Hey, Tano," he says, gritting his teeth. "I'd like to have some circulation in that leg, if you please."

"Yeah?" she asks, her eyes flashing. "Well, I'd like to actually not have to carry your big ass around this whole planet. So quit your bitchin'."

"I liked you better when you were silent and judging, girlie."

"When I was your 'Mystical Mom?"

He closes his eyes and plots how many ways he can dismember Ezra or Chopper. _Pretty sure Hera isn't the source. Unless...._

"Oh, so, Sabine talks in her sleep?"

The ex-Jedi's eyes narrow. _Not a full hit in the ten-ring, but close,_ he thinks.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Garazeb Orrelios," she says. He smirks. "Ahh. The Hera full-name gambit. I have hit a nerve."

She avoids his eyes. "I only posed for a painting," she says quietly, her eyes now open and looking up to the sky.

"Oh, so that's what the kids are calling it now?" He decides to let her off of the hook, but with one last salvo. "I tell you what, Fulcrum. You are a heartbreaker and a life-taker. You've managed to break your baby Jedi's heart twice over - for his crush on Sabine and his crush on you."

"Now you really had to make it weird, Captain of the Lasat Honor Guard."

"It's my only amusement left in life."

Her gaze softens. She places her hand on his arm and looks into his yellow eyes. "Yeah, but it ain't your only skill, big guy."

They sit there like that. Existing and listening to sounds of pursuit moving away. He shakes his head and makes to rise. She pulls him back down. "It's okay, Zeb. Got our pickup already planned."

"So what are we going to do about the ship we came in?"

She picks up her discarded arm guard and wrap. She pushes a button on the panel.

A sharp, loud rumble and bang is heard from the outskirts of the spaceport. Smoke and flame begins to billow from a familiar location. Zeb looks at her with amazement. She takes his scrutiny in stride.

"What the hell, Ahsoka? That was our ride."

"Yeah, well. Got another coming."

"You could've killed innocents."

"Nope. Troopers had already secured it."

His eyes widen as he remembers. "Chopper!" he exclaims, struggling to get up.

Ahsoka smiles. "Do you think I would harm a member of our team?" She points upward.

The little astromech is hovering above them. He comes in for a landing and immediately goes to Ahsoka's side. He immediately picks up a fresh bacta pad and starts to tend the blaster score on her left arm. She rubs his dome. "Thanks, Chop."

_Kiss-ass._

"Oh, so you thank him, but not me."

"Well, I did dress your wound," she says with exasperation. Until she sees the grin on his face.

Her middle finger rises in reply.

"Language, honey. What would the Jedi say?"

"What do you mean? A Jedi taught me that."

"Don't believe her honey. She teaches everybody all the meanness in the world."

Zeb starts at the new voice and raises his bo-rifle at the newcomer. Ahsoka puts her hand on his arm.

A tall, blue-skinned Pantoran woman in her early forties stands on the roof, a speeder bike and sidecar floating above the roof. He smiles at the slumped stormtrooper resting in the side car. Her bronze eyes are laughing as she looks at them.

She walks over to them. Zeb notices two things. Her gloved hand rests on a well worn blaster in a cross-draw rig. Her beautiful features are bare of familial tattoos that most Pantorans had.

Except for two crimson lines running from the edges of her lips down over her jaw.

She extends a hand to each of them and easily pulls them up. Ahsoka falls into her arms, as they rest their foreheads on one another. Their eyes are closed for a moment. They break apart with a quick kiss.

"So, Lassa," Ahsoka says, "how's married life?"

"Well, we haven't killed each other yet. Maybe being on separate ships is a good thing."

"You've both tried hard enough in the past, dear. At least I don't have to hide her knives and blasters, now." Ahsoka finishes.

She turns to Zeb. "Garazeb Orrelios, this is Captain Lassa Rhayme..."

He interrupts, quickly, his eyes wide. "...of the Blood Bone Order?"

She smiles, "Yes, that's what we used to call ourselves. Before we became do-gooders like this one."

He bows. "You are responsible for saving a good number of my people a few years back, when the Imperials caught up to them," he says. He looks at Ahsoka. "Interesting friends, you have there, Tano."

Lassa smiles and returns the bow. She extends her hand. "Just repaying the favor. A couple of your Honor Guard members saved a member of my crew; someone who is very dear to me, from strangling to death at the end of an Imperial cable." She sobers. "I recognize the bo-rifle, Guardsman."

"Plus, you don't have to explain to Ahsoka about your people. Rhayme points at the ex-Jedi. "A little orange, blue, and white birdie is the one who pointed us in your people's direction."

Zeb looks at Ahsoka, who doesn't meet his gaze. He smiles. "Lot of surprises in this one."

"Yeah," Rhayme says with a grin, "She has many talents." A look passes between the women. It is fleeting. "Did you know that she can belch the entire _Imperial March?"_

The look that Fulcrum gives the Pantoran promises a slow and agonizing demise.

Lassa does not appear to lose any sleep. Zeb can see that there are a lot of shared parsecs with these two.

He can also see that Ahsoka looks as if she has a question to ask.

Lassa sees also. "He's alright, love. He has had a rough go with a couple of losses, but he is okay." Ahsoka looks down. "I heard about those." Zeb can tell by her expression that she is thinking of those 'marching far away' as he has heard Rex refer to their dead.

Ahsoka's eyes well. "I know he doesn't say it, but he misses you, terribly," the older woman says.

Ahsoka turns from them both for a moment. When she turns back, she starts to walk towards the speeder bike. Zeb can tell by the set of her shoulders that her mind is elsewhere.

Lassa and he share a look as they turn and follow. He smiles as he sees the unconscious Imp slide out of the sidecar with a slight crash, as if invisible hands pull him.

He catches up to Ahsoka. He touches her arm gently. "You know that you are explaining to Hera what happened to that ship."

Her shoulders relax. "The hell I am. I have already been on the receiving end of her 'Mom' looks, as well as being ' _dear-d'_ and ' _Ahsoka Tano'd."_

Her nose goes up in the air. "Besides, I am a high official in the Rebellion. I have been taught how to destroy ships by the best of them. I don't have to explain myself."

"Yeah, honey, you go with that one if it gives you warm feelings. At least it was not the _Phantom_." He smirks. "Besides, we can always blame Chopper."

Their cries are in harmony as two shock prods are applied to two asses with an accompanying 'wah-wah.'

 _Guess the Clone Wars honeymoon feels are over for Commander Tano,_ Zeb thinks.

Lassa laughs gently at them. Zeb puts his arm around Ahsoka protectively as she mounts the speeder bike.

 _In the driver's seat._ The pirate sighs as she climbs on the back, her hands going around Ahsoka's middle. _Hopefully we will survive this ride_ , she thinks as Zeb climbs in the sidecar. Chopper follows them as they streak towards the _Opportunity_.

XXXXX

Hera walks into the crew lounge of the Ghost. She stops at an incredible sight.

Ahsoka Tano and Zeb Orrelios seated next to one another.

Snoring lightly, as Fulcrum rests her head on the Lasat's shoulder. A very large earthenware jug sits abandoned on the table. Hera grimaces at the powerful smell of the Lasat industrial solvent known as Lasan moonshine.

Hera smiles as she sees the Togruta's hand possesively resting on the muscular arm that her head rests against. The smile grows wistful as she sees the bandages. Bandages covering the physical scars of their mission.

The smile dies on her lips as she thinks of other scars on both of them. The scars of the death of their people, Jedi and Lasat, respectively.

Scars on their hearts.

The scars that all of them have.

Chopper brings a large blanket to her. Together, they spread it over the two sleeping warriors. She dims the lights. Chop takes up a silent watch over them.

**Author's Note:**

> To My Brother (In Memory of July 1st, 1916) 
> 
> Your battle-wounds are scars upon my heart,  
> Received when in that grand and tragic 'show'  
> You played your part,  
> Two years ago, 
> 
> And silver in the summer morning sun  
> I see the symbol of your courage glow --  
> That Cross you won  
> Two years ago. 
> 
> Though now again you watch the shrapnel fly,  
> And hear the guns that daily louder grow,  
> As in July  
> Two years ago. 
> 
> May you endure to lead the Last Advance  
> And with your men pursue the flying foe  
> As once in France  
> Two years ago.
> 
> Vera Brittain (In Memory of Captain E.H. Brittain, MC, D Company, 11th Battalion, The Sherwood Foresters [Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment])


End file.
